


Chapter Thirteen: Cage around the Sun

by CavalierConvoy



Series: MTMTE Series One: Shoot Straight with a Crooked Gun [14]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers Generation One, Transformers Generation Two
Genre: Detectives, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Investigations, Other, Police Procedural, Speculation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-19
Updated: 2015-02-19
Packaged: 2018-03-13 17:02:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3389462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CavalierConvoy/pseuds/CavalierConvoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The facts thus far are laid out, leading a big red arrow to one missing piece of evidence: if it was suicide, where was Red Alert's note?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chapter Thirteen: Cage around the Sun

 

You know the lies that you tell me  
All the lies I tell myself  
There are breeze coming home now  
Like it's screwed itself in Hell  
You gotta go where this is headed  
Kiss the sun to be alive  
I'm a king before this high ground  
Where the hole burn my eyes  
—["Cage Around The Sun"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CO484UOTCRY) by Monster Magnet, from _Superjudge_

The _Lost Light_  
Now

"Suicide?" Artemis flinched as though struck.

"Attempted," Magnus corrected. "First Aid was able to reattach Red Alert's head to his body, and assured us that he could make a full recovery, given the proper care."

She sensed the hanging thought. "But...?"

"It was...decided...to put him in cold sleep," Magnus replied. 

That...was unexpected. "Concern over his mental health," she speculated. 

Magnus nodded.

Artemis sank into the chair on the other side of the desk. "I knew he was paranoid, but...what could cause him to want to kill himself?"

Magnus gestured, something that could have been a shrug. "We're trying to figure that much out. Rodimus stated you and Trailbr — Trailcutter — were the last to speak to him."

Artemis nodded, taking out her datapad and booted up her notes, enabling the sharing permissions in the case he wanted to view them himself. "We were called to investigate missing fuel cells in Shuttle Bay Eleven. According to Red, he had already asked both Brainstorm and Perceptor. Thing is, even if he is innocent, Brainstorm gets curious and he gets himself involved.  
"At this point, this is speculation based on what we have, and without Red to confirm them...." She let that trail off before resuming her original thought. "We — me and 'Cutter — "

" — 'Trailcutter and I' — "

" — think he might have used previous situations to orchestrate this distraction, as to keep us from stumbling upon what he was up to. To start, Brainstorm conducted a weapons testing in Shuttle Bay Eleven about a decacycle ago, which took out four of the cameras and caused the fifth to malfunction over time. Red did not repair nor replace these, nor, according to Blaster, make any indication that these were nonoperational to any of the maintenance crews. On the topic of maintenance, he neglected to confront Huffer about an improperly filled maintenance report and supply manifest on replacing fuel cells after the Messatine mission. Huffer has already been reprimanded," she added, hoping to deflect any brig time for the Minibot. "When Red called us in after mid-sol, he told us ten fuel cells were missing. Huffer replaced all the fuel cells in the three MARBs after the Messatine mission, meaning eighteen cells were replaced, total. We brought in Perceptor, with Brainstorm tagging along, to help count cells. 

"Backing up a bit, we think Red purposely created an alibi with Brainstorm to clear him by questioning him personally before calling us in, but at the same time made him a person of interest because now Brainstorm a.) knew the cells were missing, and 2.) couldn't stop thinking of why anyone would steal low-yield fuel cells, thus following his own investigation to poke around the shuttle bay in the case Red missed anything, thus drawing suspicion on him."

She had thrown in the too-short, misaligned bullet list on purpose; it was a guilty pleasure to watch his jaw clench while resisting the urge to correct her. Artemis continued her report before he could say anything. "Each carton holds sixteen cells; one whole carton was missing against the manifest. For the record, we had Percy do the counts for accuracy. We also did a physical count to see if any spent cells were placed back in the storage instead of sent down to recycling."

"But you said ten cells were reported missing; sixteen cells had been missing from the manifest, but eighteen were used after the Delphi mission."

"Let's back up: Huffer took eighteen fresh cells — one carton, plus two, after Ratchet and the others returned. Forgot to fill out the requisition report. Takes spent eighteen to recycling. Likely used the box which the fresh ones came out of. We have now a box of fourteen fresh cells. In theory. Now, let's say this happened more than once; two more times, previously. Which means Red would have been neglecting those reports as well. But those would have to be before our — the weapons test, which means we would have visual evidence of these discrepancies. Between your love of paperwork and Red's attention to detail, these would have been caught long before now. Which means the paperwork never hit your desk. They could have been forged, either by Red or someone else. We were investigating that when you called me up.

"But with your information?" She set her 'pad on the desk and bowed her head. "I'm thinking this was an elaborate, last ditch cry for help."

"Explain." _Convince me._

"The fuel cells were a convenient coincidence. He asked us if we heard anything unusual — voices, whispers. He was getting paranoid. Something as mundane as fuel cells, only strong enough for crude flash-bangs? Not unusual for him to send us cock-ups to check out something simple while he was focused on something more pressing to his attention — not unlike Red whenever he goes on a paranoid fit. And if it was suicide, where's his note?"

"'Note'?"

"It's irrational. It's hard to grasp suicide for us, but, attempted or successful, there's generally a note. It's a confession, clearing conscience, or even just a cry for help to be found before one goes through. At least, speaking from personal experience." She lifted her chin, pressing her index finger upwards from her throat, with the thumb out. That was a dark time — thirteen stels ago. Had it been that long, that soon ago? "Why I hesitated: I needed to write a note. An apology." She dropped her hand. "Irrational. But that hesitation kept me alive long enough for someone to convince me otherwise." Someone sitting across the desk from her, but she did not press the past. "I think the fuel cells were a convenient distraction."

"And what would prove your hypothesis?"

"I need to find a note. Even clues for why First Aid would rule suicide."

The office was quiet for the better part of two megacycles. "Search his quarters," Magnus ordered, typing out a warrant and sending it to her 'pad. "It's been on lock-down until I could return. And question his roommate. Information gathering only, no accusations; I've had enough of those for one day." 

Uh-oh. "What happened?"

"Rodimus was...quick...to accuse Cyclonus."

"No _modus operandi_ , and likely alibis up the aft. Me and 'Cutter — "

"'Trailcutter and I...'"

" — considered him for all of a half-click. If Tailgate isn't following him around, Whirl's trying to pick a fight with him. And that's not considering every single one of us notices him whenever he walks into a room. Why would Rod suspect him?"

Another twitch, this time not a good one. "Because he's different."

She covered her face. "Oh, Rod...." Nyon 'bots: hotheaded pranksters, saboteurs, and anarchists. Sometimes all of the above. With an exhale, she stood, dropping her hands at her side. "Anything else you need, soldier?"

He stood as well, rounding the desk and staring down at her, an arm's-length away. "Resume your sessions with Rung when he returns to duty. I need you level-headed. The last few decacycles, you've been slipping."

He was right. "Yes, sir," she nodded, turning away.

"Artemis — "

"Don't make me abandon my friend," she warned, or at least she had hoped it came out a warning. It sounded more like a plea to her audio receptors. "He's a good 'bot, regardless of his faults."

Another jaw clench, but it was coupled by a surprised dim of the optics. A retort was on his tongue; he swallowed it and issued a question instead. "Would Rung say in this situation?"

"Wouldn't know; he's not here. Am I dismissed? I have a job to do." She had spoken wrong, but she was reluctant to apologise just yet. Assumed when something was not there. She was tired, needed a recharge, needed a drink. Without waiting for the reply, she left the office, her foot falls heavy in her audio receptors. 

Red's roommate — Primus. She bowed her head and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Swerve," she muttered. This could go both ways: jackpot, or disaster.

In front of Swerve's bar, she lifted her fist to pound on the door, just before the warning klaxon sounded. The door slid open, and Whirl, first out, whooped, running past them in his digitigrade gait.

Artemis's mouth pressed into a grim line. A distraction? Changing up her game, she grabbed Skids' arm as he brushed past her. "What's up?"

"No clue," he shrugged. "Think it's a 'we've been boarded!', or a 'who's up for a fight?'?"

"They're usually synonymous around here, aren't they?" Artemis clapped his shoulder, signalling a dismissal. Tapping her comm unit, she hailed, "Oi, soldier! What's the sit-rep?"

 _"Situation escalated on Temptoria; report to the_ Leading Light _and prepare for battle — you have first wave."_

She frowned. "Magnus, is this a distraction?" she hissed.

There was a pause. " _Report to the_ Leading Light _. We'll continue the investigation after the mission."_

Upon signing off, Artemis allowed herself a moment to sigh. _Rodimus, what are you doing?_

Stopping at the security office, she entered the code to her weapons locker. Serendipity in shotgun mode slung over her shoulder, above the hammer; her pistols in their holsters at each hip. For a brief click, she considered her escrima sticks, in a sheath hanging from a hook. She gave up her speed long ago, and shut the door with a rattle.

"Distraction?" Trailcutter hissed in her audio receptor as he passed her to his locker.

"Coincidence, more likely," she countered. "I'm on first wave — if I go offline, you get my guns. And my flask."

Trailcutter harrumphed. "The sol you go offline in battle is the sol Mortilus returns from the dead and walks the streets of Iacon. I'd take your flask, though."

She passed him the requested item. "You need your own, 'Cutter."

He took a swig, passing it back to her. "Then I wouldn't have the pleasant conversation."

She toasted him, taking a pull of her own before returning it to its holster. "Meet you at the shuttle."

 

NEXT CHAPTER: Somebody Told Me


End file.
